Wild Hearts and Winter Wishes
by Ski October
Summary: /Christmas is the time to let your heart do the thinking./ Christmas comes to Tifa and her friends, bringing with it an air of mystery and romance. Relationships are changing and realizations are being made. Could one's heart be the greatest gift to give of all? Multiple pairings.
1. Vintage Red

_Hello, my loves. Been a while, huh? I know I've been jabbing about other projects, but let's face it: we all know how I am. Anyway, this was inspired by _The Tales of Genesis Rhapsodos _by _Executortionist_. So, darling, if you're reading this - thank you! When all of you are finished with this go check that out, kay? This is going to be a drabblish series, mostly about Genesis and Tifa. There will be some interlude-shots with other characters, though. Really not much more to say._

_Special thanks to Elise - _Blue-Winter-Angel - _for proof-reading, and actually naming, this series. Where would I be without you, my love?_

**DISCLAIMER: **_I own nothing but the plot._

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

"I still can't understand why you don't like the winter," Tifa says to her companion as they stroll along the snow-laden sidewalk.

Genesis huffs. "It's cold and wet and gray. And despite my stupendous physical wellness, I am inexplicably susceptible to the common cold. I'm only here right now because you asked me to be."

She touches her temple to his upper arm. "Yes, you're very sweet to me. I'm glad you're here."

This seems to placate Genesis. He softens, allowing their bodies to sink into each other and fall into a steady pace. He looks around, reluctantly admiring the brightness of the snow and how it seems to transform the usually dank city into something else entirely. It could almost be considered magical.

"So what do you think the boys will like?" Tifa asks, reminding Genesis that they are out Christmas shopping. Tifa finished buying for everyone else earlier in the week. All that remain are his friends. He considers her question.

"Zack likes video games, Angeal likes books. Sephiroth doesn't like anything."

Tifa laughs. "That's not true. He likes classical music and coconut macaroons, at least."

Genesis is mildly surprised. "Does he? How do you know this?"

"He told me."

"When exactly did you and the Great General find time to discuss his taste in music and confectioneries?"

"Last Sunday, when he stopped by for tea."

Genesis comes to an abrupt halt. Tifa, her arm having been looped with his, is forced to stop as well. Genesis is gazing down at her incredulously and she blinks up at him with innocent dark eyes. "What?"

"Since when does Sephiroth stop by your house to have _tea_?"

"Since two months ago. The day after you two had that fight, I suppose he just wanted somewhere quiet to be and he ended up at my place. I offered him tea to be a polite hostess, and since then we've just started having tea every Sunday. You would know this, if you could be bothered to visit me on Sundays, like I ask you to."

Genesis pouts. "You didn't tell me that Sundays entailed having tea with Sephiroth."

Tifa smiles, her eyes twinkling. "You sound petulant. Jealous?"

"Certainly not!" he sputters. Tifa only laughs and pulls him along down the sidewalk.

* * *

"What about this place?"

Tifa stops in front of what looks to be a quaint bookstore. The windows are frosted over, with snow collecting along the panes; the wooden exterior looks suspiciously rotted. Inside, though, it is bright and most likely warm. It is the latter prospect that makes Genesis concede to enter.

He was right, it's very warm inside. Warm enough that he wants to shed his scarf and knit cap. There are strands of white Christmas lights strung about the ceiling and along the tops of the bookshelves, flickering in various patterns. There is a thin layer of dust over everything that is somehow welcoming. It smells of old paper and ink.

And coffee.

He spots a coffee machine near the register and makes a beeline for it while Tifa wanders off into Historical Romance. Blessedly, as he is short on coin change, the coffee is complimentary. He grabs one of the waxed paper cups and fills it to the brim, then dumps a small heap of sugar into it. Genesis likes his coffee sweet and black. He puts a lid on it and, with a polite smile to the cashier, goes in search of Tifa.

She has moved from Historical Romance to Biography, her brows drawn down in thought. She sees him coming and looks up, obviously relieved. "As many times as I've spoken with Angeal, you'd think I'd know what kind of books he likes."

Genesis sips his coffee. "He likes mysteries."

Tifa blinks. "Oh. Well, those are over here. What kind of mysteries?"

"Mysterious mysteries?" Genesis offers, slightly confused by her question.

"Very funny," she says flatly. "I meant, does he like any specific authors?"

"I can't say for certain, but I believe he's brought up Agatha Christie more than once. I do know that he likes Sherlock Holmes."

Tifa's smile is delighted. "Angeal Hewley likes Miss Marple? That's just perfect! Hm, maybe James Patterson, or Patricia Cornwell. I've read some of their works. Not half bad. But this gift is from you – what do you think?"

Genesis contemplates this while he polishes off his coffee. "Patterson, for something new. Christie, in case he doesn't like Patterson."

"Excellent choices." Tifa plucks a few novels from the shelves and hands them to him. "You go pay for these. There's a few books I want to get for myself."

He nods and takes the books to the register. The young girl there – she can't be more than six- or seventeen – smiles brightly at him. "Will this be all, sir?"

"I believe so, unless I am to purchase Tifa's books as well."

"I can just ring these up and wait for her, then." As she does this, she asks, "So, is she your girlfriend? She's very pretty. I'd kill to have her skin."

Despite being startled by her question, Genesis notes that the girl's skin is relatively clear. "No, she isn't. She's a very close friend, though. She was kind enough to help me pick out gifts for my friends."

The girl smiles. "That's sweet. Shame, though. You two'd look lovely together."

Genesis, feeling more than uncomfortable with the conversation, merely smiles. He is relieved when Tifa arrives at the counter, an international cookbook and a fiction series in tow. "Oh, you didn't have to wait. I'll pay for my own things."

"Are you sure? It's no trouble."

Tifa waves away his offer. "No, it's fine. Save your money for the other two guys."

Genesis shrugs and pays the girl. He fixes a second cup of sweet black coffee while Tifa makes her own purchases. Within minutes she's ready to go and they wave goodbye to the teenager. Outside, the air seems to be even colder – Genesis knows he's only imagining it – and he clutches his coffee tighter, trying to usurp its warmth.

The next stop is a toy store to find gift for Zack. Genesis snorts. "It isn't surprising we would find a gift for him here."

"He's a child at heart," Tifa chuckles.

They peruse the aisles, and Tifa actually finds a couple more things for Denzel and Marlene before they find something Zack would like. A small gaming system, and shelved beside it a stack of recent popular games. Tifa checks the price and deems it acceptable. They make their purchases quickly and are all too soon back out into the cold.

"Well, what do you want to get for Sephiroth?" Tifa asks, as they near the high-end division of the shopping district.

"I'm not sure." Genesis sniffles and he is certain his nose is getting red. He really does try to think of what his stoic friend would like. Sephiroth is a practical, no-nonsense man. Something frivolous would more than likely go amiss. His humor was of a dry sort, very hard to detect. He was not much of a morning person, though he could rise and go about his business. Genesis smiles faintly as he recalls a morning the previous summer, when he had woken Sephiroth and nearly had his hair chopped off. A cup of coffee had soothed the General's ire, but Genesis remained in his bad graces for a week afterward. And then he has it.

"What about a coffee maker? A new one, I mean. The one he has now is borderline prehistoric."

Tifa's eyes brightened. "That would be perfect. I was nagging him about getting one of those Keurig machines."

"Whatever those are."

"I'll show you when we get to a store that carries them."

"They aren't difficult to use, are they? You know how he gets with his appliances." He grimaces, knowing himself just how fed up Sephiroth became when using technology. The results aren't pretty.

"They're ridiculously easy to use, trust me." Tifa smiles reassuringly. "I might get one for myself."

It isn't long before they come to a department store, one of the more popular ones with frequent television advertisements. They go inside and the warmth hits Genesis like a ton of bricks. He shudders, his body expelling the cold. _I'll _catch _a cold if we keep switching temperatures like this, _he thinks grumpily.

Tifa seems to know exactly where to find this coffee maker and it doesn't take long before they're standing in front of the display. Genesis admits that they look nice, black and sleek and modern. They look like the kind of thing one would find in Sephiroth's immaculate apartment. At the bottom of the display are several boxes of what look to be various flavors of coffee, in small cups.

"Those are K-cups," Tifa tells him when he asks. "You fill the back of the machine with water and when you lift the lid, there's a pair of sharp needles to puncture the K-cup after you close it. Then it works like any other coffee machine. It also has a portion setting, if you were to use a smaller or larger cup."

"That doesn't sound very difficult to use," Genesis concedes, mildly impressed.

Tifa nods. "Yeah, he'll have no trouble with it. For every one K-cup you get about two servings. They have tea, too, so he'll really like that. Here," She hands him one of the machines and he holds it gingerly. "you hold that and I'll pick the flavors. I'm going to assume, not without affection, that you don't know what kinds of coffee and teas he likes."

"You're not wrong."

"These things are pretty expensive, so I'll get him one box of coffee, and then a couple of teas. We'll need to go to the actual aisle for the tea; it's not in the display."

Genesis follows along behind her, content to let her run the show. Tifa quickly picks up two kinds of tea – jasmine and oolong – and turns to him, ready to go.

"He likes oriental teas?"

"Mhm. He says they have a more calming effect on him. He does like other kinds, but I've noticed that these two seem to be his favorite. So, is this it? Did you want to get anything while we're here?"

Genesis shakes his head. "No, I'm ready."

Carrying their items to the check out, they purchase them quickly and are once again plunged into the cold. Genesis, though, is thinking. He feels guilty that Tifa knows more about his best friend than he himself does. He ought to know that Sephiroth prefers jasmine and oolong tea. True, he isn't as close to Sephiroth as he is to Angeal – whom he knows everything about – but that doesn't mean he cannot make a better effort. He decides that he will.

"So," Tifa chirps, snapping him out of his reverie. "you wanna get something to eat? We made really good time shopping today – it's barely one o'clock!"

Genesis reflects that, seeing as she had dragged him out of his house at close to seven o'clock, six hours of shopping doesn't seem like making good time. Perhaps females had a different perspective. He discovers, though, that he is quite hungry. Famished. "I think food sounds like a wonderful idea."

Tifa smiles. "I thought you might. We haven't had anything since we bought those scones this morning. C'mon, there's a nice place at the corner down here. Yuffie and I go all the time."

They weave their way along the avenue, more crowded now than earlier that morning, making relatively idle chatter until they come to the eatery. It is a quaint, but pretty place. Polished dark wood exterior with spotless glass windows and words scrawled in gold paint proclaiming _Ira's. _Inside, it isn't as crowded as Genesis had predicted, despite the teeming droves of people outside. It is dimly lit, though there are Christmas lights strung tastefully along the walls, and framing the windows. The tables were all round, small in a way meant to create intimacy between patrons. He likes it.

Tifa, to his surprise, makes her own way to a table by the window and seats herself. Once he confirms that no fuss will be made, he follows suit. Tifa is arranging their bags on the floor between the table and the window; when she looks up, Genesis quirks an eyebrow at her.

"This is the table I usually eat at with Yuffie. We come here often enough that Ira just tells us to sit wherever we like." She shrugs elegantly, and Genesis follows the movement involuntarily.

It isn't long before a waitress comes to them. She is slim and pretty, with dark brown hair and eyes the rich brown-black of coffee. Her heart-shaped face is free of any cosmetic enhancement and her smile is genuine, likely because she is friends with Tifa. Her nametag says _Lena_.

"Tifa, it's so good to see you!" She bends down to give Tifa a quick hug. "It's not Friday yet, what are you doing here?"

"I was out Christmas shopping with Genesis and we ended up close to _Ira's_, so we came here. Lena, this is Genesis," she says, her good-hostess personality kicking in."Genesis, this is Lena."

Genesis inclines his head politely. "A pleasure."

"It's nice to meet you, too." Lena smiles. "You sure know how to keep handsome company, Tif. He's as pretty as the other one you bring in." Still smiling, Lena takes down their orders and with a wink, she's off.

"The other one?" Genesis asks. He is amused, but also something else. Something that he isn't sure he wants to confront. Not now, at least, when Tifa is right in front of him.

"Oh," Tifa chuckles. "Yuffie and I have brought Zack in several times. Yuffie's actually trying to set him up with Lena, and it might be working. You may see her again soon."

"That would be nice. A woman in his life could be beneficial to Zackary."

Tifa laughs again, and Lena swings by with their drinks and a basket of light dinner rolls. Genesis takes one and bites into it, savoring the warmth of the soft bread. Tifa sips her raspberry iced tea and carefully butters her own roll. They talk quietly, eating through the rolls. They are midway through another conversation thread when Lena arrives with their meals.

While Tifa digs into her alfredo with much relish, Genesis eyes his plate curiously. He hadn't really payed much attention when he'd placed his order, just rattling off one of the daily specials. His order seems to be a kind of thick soup that smells of cheese and potatoes.

"Something wrong with your food?" Tifa asks, noticing his hesitation.

"I'm not quite sure what it is. I wasn't paying attention when I ordered it." It does smell awfully good, though. He is sure he wouldn't die of poisoning if he ate it.

"It's just potato soup. It's funny; you were talking about getting a cold earlier this morning. Potato soup works better than medicine." Tifa smiles. "Maybe your brain was subconsciously trying to treat you."

"Perhaps." Genesis, now reassured, dips his spoon in. There is a thick layer of melted cheese that stretches gloriously as he lifts the spoon. The soup is hot, almost too much for his mouth, but it is welcome after a morning spent in the cold.

"As I was saying," Tifa begins, picking their conversation back up. "What are you doing for Christmas Day? We have the party on Christmas Eve – are you coming over for Christmas dinner?"

He smiles gently. "Where else would I go?"

Tifa says carefully, "I didn't know if you would go to visit your parents. I was nervous asking about it; I didn't want to upset you. I'm not really sure how things are with you and your family."

He is touched by her concern. "Tifa, _you_ are my family. You, and Angeal, Sephiroth, Zack. Even Cloud and Yuffie and your group of comrades. My parents and I are fine with one another, but they'll never be close to me in the way that you and the others are." _You most of all, I think._

He clamps down on his tongue to ensure that he keeps this last thing to himself. He is surprised by how easily – and accidentally – he admits it to himself, and irked that he did so while in Tifa's company. He isn't sure how she feels about him, and that leaves him at a disadvantage. Genesis hates to be left at a disadvantage.

Meanwhile, Tifa is glowing. Her cheeks are a lovely shade of pink that he finds endearing. "It's good to know how you feel, then."

_You don't know half of what I feel, _he thinks. He keeps this to himself as well, and they finish their meals in contented silence.

* * *

It is late in the evening and Genesis has spent all the time in Tifa's home, the apartment above her bar. _Seventh Heaven _is closed on the weekends, though, so there will be no frantic preparation for the coming patrons. Instead, they have wrapped all of the gifts bought that morning, including a few that Tifa had bought days ago.

There is an empty plate on the coffee table that had been laden with gingerbread cookies, and two cups of unfinished coffee, now cold. The fire place still crackles along, keeping the apartment warm. The Christmas tree in the corner twinkles gently, the lights catching off the ornaments. Many of them are homemade, the clumsy handiwork of the children. Others are old and fragile-looking, kept over the years to be used continually. The angel at the top of the tree, he knows, belonged to Tifa's mother. There is a garland along the mantel, threaded with silver tinsel, and below it hang three stockings. Marlene lives with Barrett now, but Tifa still fills one for her each year.

Tifa is asleep on her antique sofa, wrapped up in the quilt Angeal had painstakingly sewn for her birthday. Genesis smiles when he remembers all of the teasing his friend received. The memory passes and his thoughts are replaced by Tifa. Though the words spoken by the girl in the bookstore were unexpected, Genesis has been thinking of Tifa as more than a close friend for a long time, if he were honest with himself. He sometimes thinks that perhaps Tifa feels the same. Remembering all the little favors she does for him, the things she lets him alone get away with, he wonders if he is correct.

The past few months, he has also wondered if he oughtn't come out with it, tell her how he feels about her. That he likes the messy way her hair falls after working the night shift. That she is the strongest person he has ever known. That the way she cares for children who are not of her womb inspires him to better himself for her. That her laughter is more enthralling than the story of _Loveless_, and her smile is like his very own sun. He wonders if he should tell her that he loves her.

He lets his gaze roam over her. She is curled into a loose ball, as she is apt to do, the quilt twisted around her legs. Her hair, now free from its knot, spills across the gray pillow like the blackest ink. Her long lashes brush the tops of her cheeks, which are pink from the warmth of the fire. Her breathing is deep and even, peaceful in her rest. She is beautiful.

Genesis is nearly convinced that he will tell her. Christmas is barely two weeks away, and perhaps he can do something special for her. He glances at the analog clock hung above the fireplace and notes that it is well after eleven. His apartment isn't far, but with the dark comes a fiercer cold that he doesn't feel like braving. He kicks off his boots and tugs the afghan off the the back of the couch. Wrapping up and settling down, he makes a mental note to consult Sephiroth and Angeal when next they meet.

Until then, until he can have Tifa in his waking life, he is content to dream of her

.

.

.

.

.

.


	2. Little Talks

_And here I am again. Not a lot of reviews on chapter one, but infinite thanks to those of you who did review. I adore you. Here we see a bit of the Yuffentine thread of this story, which I can feel is going to be much fun. I did end this on a sort of cliffhanger, but I don't think it's too bad. Hm, I don't really have much more to say for this chapter, so enjoy._

_As always, tremendous love and thanks to Elise for reading over this and swooning with me at the sound of Gen's voice._

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

"C'mon, Vince, where's your holiday spirit?" Yuffie whines, prodding him in the ribs. They have been in the department store for almost three hours and have so far only acquired a wreath and two boxes of fat multicolored lights.

"Back in my coffin," Vincent replies drily.

Yuffie frowns. "But you remembered to bring your sense of humor?"

An elegant shrug is her only response. She huffs and stalks off to the nearest aisle, which displays tree ornaments and festive dishware. A little ballerina ornament catches her eye. Yuffie has never been partial to dancing, but she acknowledges the skill and grace with which the dancers move. The painted girl also reminds her of Marlene, who is in her ninth year of ballet in Coral. Yuffie drops the ornament into the shopping cart.

Yuffie does manage to wheedle Vincent into selecting a few decorations: a wire-frame snowman for the lawn, a holly garland, and even the tree topper. He chooses a star, silver and encrusted with red and blue jewels. They are also shopping for gifts; Christmas is close and they have nothing to give to Tifa and Denzel. Yuffie considers a necklace, and they stop by the jewelry section. As she peruses the selections, her bright eyes catch onto a ring. It it slim and silver, etched with delicate patterns and set with the smallest ruby she has ever seen, flanked on either side by pearls.

An engagement ring.

She stills, her heart skipping a beat. She feels ridiculous, like some thirteen-year-old schoolgirl, but she can't help it. The sight of the ring and the knowledge of its purpose sets her spine to tingling. She and Vincent have been together for several years. She loves him, and he loves her just as fiercely, if not in a more outwardly mild way. But over the last few months, Yuffie has been thinking. This usually does not bode well for anyone, including Yuffie herself, but it is different this time. She thinks that she wants their relationship to grow.

She thinks she wants to marry him.

"Do you wish to buy her this ring?" Vincent asks, looking at her with his rich eyes. Her cheeks darken slightly when she realizes she has admired the ring for too long. She smiles awkwardly, deferring.

"No, I just thought it was pretty. You know how I am with shiny things." She shrugs it off, moves along to the next display case. Vincent is no fool, though, and knows that she is hiding something. He will not pry, however, being as private a man as he is. He knows from experience that to try to extract an answer from Yuffie will result in the irreparable mutilation of his person. All he has to do is wait; when she is ready, Yuffie will tell him whatever it is that she is keeping hidden.

While Yuffie talks to the sales associate, settling on a pair of pearl earrings, Vincent retreats into his own mind. Chaos being long gone, the other demons are quieter, little more than a murmur on the edge of his thoughts. He thinks about his years spent with Yuffie, both as friends and as lovers. She is a woman of extraordinary measure, and though he knows her inside and out, she never fails to surprise him.

There is something about the way she had admired the ring that he finds peculiar. Yuffie likes things that shine, yes, but never has she been so drawn to a specific object that was not materia. Then he recalls that the ring is an engagement ring. It floors him momentarily, and he wonders at the idea that Yuffie may be considering marriage. With him. Marriage with _him_. It leaves him breathless and starstruck and he is so relieved that he has had years to perfect his poker face.

_Yuffie wants to marry me?_

The idea that Yuffie wanted to get married at all was astounding, let alone that she wanted him to be the groom. Then, suddenly, it isn't so astounding. They are in love, Yuffie and he, and when people loved one another they bound themselves in matrimony. True, they weren't any ordinary couple, but the basic principles remained the same. Love changes people, even Yuffie, and she is no longer the impetuous teenager she once was. She is a woman, and she has nearly made up her mind.

But what about himself? Vincent knows exactly how he feels about her – she is the sun around which his universe revolves. She sharpens him, brings his qualities and quirks into near-painful clarity. She breathes life into him, keeps his blood hot and his heart racing. Without her, there is nothing to him. Without her, there is no Vincent Valentine. He would go to the End of the World for her, a trillion times over, if he thought it would make her so much as smile. He would lay down and _die _without a second's hesitation if he thought it would spare her life. There is no question, no shadowy doubt that he is devoted to her, wholly.

He has always intended to spend the rest of his life with her, but he suddenly wants to make that official. He knows that ceremonies like this are mostly for the family and friends, but surely there is something in it for the two who are in love. Something that displays their love to the world and sets it in stone for eternity. Vincent now desperately wants that something, and knowing that Yuffie wants it as well makes his jaded heart contract.

When Yuffie has gotten everything she wants from this store, she drags him through the checkout and out into the parking lot where their car waits. She is chattering two miles a minute as they load their bags into the trunk, her earlier discomfort forgotten for the moment. She slides into the passenger seat, still talking, and Vincent buttons up his coat before climbing into the driver's seat.

With Yuffie's voice as music in the background, Vincent thinks about the engagement ring. He thinks about that something, about the eternity set in stone. He imagines Yuffie in white, or maybe purple because she hates to be traditional. He thinks about so much and imagines so many things that he gets distracted and barely manages to avoid driving into the opposite lane. (Fortunately, Yuffie does not notice this).

Vincent's mind is made up. He will buy the ring and he will marry her. Their love will be set in stone for the world to see, and they will have that something.

They will have eternity.

* * *

Sitting in Angeal's homely apartment across town, Genesis lets his tea grow cold on the table in front of him. He is thinking too much to drink it.

"Are you just going to waste that tea?" Sephiroth asks, watching him with mild curiosity.

"I can't drink it right now."

Sephiroth nods, accepting the answer. But Angeal, who has been trying to get Genesis to talk for the last quarter of an hour, frowns. "Are you going to tell us what's wrong, then?"

Genesis sighs. He can't hold it in any longer. "I have come to an important realization, and I do not know what to do."

"Genesis Rhapsodos, admitting uncertainty?" Sephiroth's eyebrows raise in mock astonishment. Genesis prepares a sharp retort, but Angeal interferes. "Don't antagonize him, Seph. Now, Gen, what is this realization?"

Here, Genesis grows so uncomfortable that even Sephiroth withholds his next teasing remark. "I... I am in love with Tifa."

There is a moment of silence, broken by Sephiroth. "I could have told you that, friend."

Genesis scoffs. "Well, you might have mentioned this to me earlier. It would have made things so much easier."

Angeal smiles. "It's more like, we had speculations. We didn't know for sure if you were in love, but to hear that you are is wonderful. Congratulations."

Genesis's lips quirk some. "Thank you. Don't congratulate me yet, though."

"Yes, he hasn't actually got the lady," Sephiroth says. "Though, from what I gather by observing the two of you, I'd say you have an excellent chance of doing so."

"What do you mean?"

"There is an unusual way the two of you behave around one another. If one of you moves a certain way, the other moves accordingly. It's almost like the two of you have your own solar system, but only orbit each other. It's quite a thing to see."

Genesis absorbs this. "You have tea with her on Sundays. Does she mention me at all?"

Sephiroth smirks. "All the time. She complains that you never come to visit her, and when you do, you eat all of her food." Genesis pouts, but the General adds, "But there is an undeniable fondness in her voice when she speaks your name."

Thinking of his name on Tifa's lips, in light of the discovery of his feelings for her, sends a delicious chill up his spine. "It is heartening to know that my odds are fair."

"To say the least," Angeal chuckles, taking a sip of his own tea. "What do you need our help with?"

"I'm not sure." Genesis rakes a hand through his already mussed hair. "I need advice. I've never felt this way about someone else. I've been attracted to women, of course, but with Tifa it isn't just an attraction. _What do I do?_"

Angeal scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Though it has always been a desire of mine, I have never fallen truly in love with another person. I am as inexperienced as you."

"I would say to be honest," Sephiroth interjects, eying him coolly. "Tell her how you feel. After that, it will be up to her."

"But how would I tell her? Should I set up a romantic dinner and woo her by candlelight? Or just blurt it out when we happen to see each other next?" If he keeps frowning like this he'll likely get a permanent crease between his brows, he thinks.

"I suppose you could try one or the other." Sephiroth is back to dry humor.

"Or maybe a bit of both." Angeal leans forward, suddenly intent. His eyes gleam with an idea. "Nothing so elaborate as a candlelit dinner, but perhaps a gift. You still need a Christmas gift for her, yes? Well, get her alone and give her the present, then tell her you love her."

"Do you really think that would work?" Genesis hates this uncertainty that has taken hold of him. He feels like a lesser man.

Angeal nods sagely. "I think it will work, because I know that you are sincere in your feelings. Tifa will see that sincerity."

"Besides," Sephiroth murmurs, more than a trace of sarcasm in his deep voice. "you are _the _Genesis Rhapsodos. Or have you forgotten? When has there ever been an obstacle you have not overcome? This one you face now is no different."

"It is worlds different, my friend." Genesis takes a breath. At Sephiroth's remark, the uncertainty has melted, shed away like the stray feathers from his wing. "But you are not wrong. I have never met an obstacle I could not best. I will confess, and, Goddess willing, she will accept."

"Now, _there's_ the Genesis I know," Angeal laughs boisterously. "Would you care to finish that tea now?"

"Yes, I would, thanks." His spirits considerably heightened, tea sounds like just the ticket. Angeal pours him a fresh cup, he relishes the taste of ginseng on his tongue. "Thank you, my friends. I do not tell you often, but I would be lost without you."

"You'd be in purgatory, more like." Sephiroth snorts inelegantly.

"What he means to say it that we appreciate you as well." Angeal smiles into his tea. "So, what will you get Tifa for Christmas?"

"Oh, I have just the thing for her. Profession of my undying love aside, she'll go mad." Genesis grins. But his confidence dims some when he remembers what acquiring the gift will entail. "There is a problem, however."

Sephiroth quirks a slim brow. Angeal frowns slightly. "What is that?"

"To get the gift, I'll have to face my parents."

.

.

.

.

.


	3. Of Dress Shopping and Orchards

_So, this is waaaaay past Christmas, and I'm so sorry for that. That was _the _busiest Christmas of my life. The following months have been no less hectic, either. But, being on Spring Break, I have had time to write, and so I present you with this! This is completely unedited, by the way. Elise has been working a ton of hours and I kind of wrote all this up on a whim. Well, the second part, anyway. I totally scrapped and rewrote it all. Hopefully you don't find it lacking._

_Also, on another bright note, I GOT MY PROM DRESS WOOT. Hee. Sorry. You have no idea the trouble we went through to get it. Anywho. I'll leave you to the reading._

* * *

.

.

.

.

.

"You know," Yuffie mutters around a mouthful of food. "This shopping stuff is starting to grow on me."

"I think you just like spending money."Aerith smiles and takes a civilized bite of her ravioli. "That's something you've always been good at."

"Har har. Well, you might have a point. But whatever."

Tifa listens to her best friends banter back and forth and she feels content. With Christmas rapidly approaching, they've all been too busy making preparations for parties and visits to actually spend time together. Today, though, they are out dress shopping for the Christmas Eve party, so they are making preparations _and_ spending time together. Aerith picked a pretty ivory velvet dress with long sleeves and a modest neckline. Something sweet that suited her demure personality. Yuffie, who has developed a sense of fashion in recent years, selected a short, sheer green number with loose sleeves, a collar, and dark gold polka-dots. It is an unusual dress, but Yuffie makes it work, especially now that her hair has grown out some.

Tifa, on the other hand, has yet to find something she likes. Yuffie and Aerith are pointing this out for the hundredth time as she tunes back into the conversation.

"So when are you going to pick something already?" Yuffie whines, pouting around her fork. "We've been out all morning and you're the only one without a dress."

"I know, I know. But I can't help that I'm so picky." Tifa takes a sip of her iced tea. "It just.. it has to be perfect. I feel like this Christmas is different from the others we've had. More special."

Aerith looks at her curiously. "Why do you feel that way?"

Tifa blushes, realizing that she has halfway revealed something maybe too personal. "Oh, I – well, I just... um..."

Yuffie, with the impeccable perception possessed only by a ninja of her caliber, hones in immediately on Tifa's poorly constructed defense. "You like someone, don't you? You _do_! Who is he? Spill it!"

"Yuffie, don't interrogate her," Aerith scolds. She looks kindly at Tifa. "You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. Just know that if you do, it stays with us._ Right Yuffie?_"

"Right, right." Yuffie waves an impatient hand. "Seriously, who is it? I bet I can guess it. Is it Seph? I know he's at your place every Sunday."

"No, it's not Sephiroth." At least she can form a denial.

Yuffie reconsiders. "Well, it's not Zack. Not Cloud – he's with Aerith, obviously. Angeal's not quite right... Oh. _Oh._ It's _Genesis. _It's Genesis, right? I'm right, aren't I? I am."

Tifa thinks her face must be as red as her scarf. _Or Genesis's coat. _She is embarrassed, but can find no reason to continue the pitiful charade. "Yes."

"I _knew _it!" Yuffie crows, delighted by her discovery. "So, what, are you in love with him? Or do you just want to sleep with him?"

"_Yuffie._" Aerith is appalled.

Yuffie, however, is utterly nonplussed. "What? He's hot. If I didn't have Vincent, I'd be all over Genesis. If that's what Tifa wants to do, more power to her."

While Aerith argues with Yuffie the finer points of tact and discretion, Tifa sighs. She had, of course, planned to tell her friends about her feelings for Genesis. This isn't quite how she had imagined her confession going, though she really didn't expect anything less. Still, she isn't keen on having a huge fuss made over it. Just because she gets weak in the knees every time Genesis smirks at her, or tugs on her hair when he wants her attention, or laughs that raspy laugh of his, or pouts because he's miffed...

Perhaps it is a big deal. _I'm hopeless, _she thinks, half miserable, half amused.

"While sleeping with him does sound appealing," she says, interrupting their feud. "I'm actually in love with him. I want to tell him during the party."

"How perfect," Aerith sighs, ever the dreamy romantic.

Yuffie grins. "Yeah. Confess your undying devotion, _then_ nail him."

"Yuffie, must you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I must."

Tifa rolls her eyes. "Can we focus, please? I'm going to tell him on Christmas Eve, so everything has to be perfect. This includes my dress."

"Absolutely." Aerith wipes her mouth and flags down their waiter. "I know just the place."

Their lunches now forgotten, they pay the tab and collect their shopping bags. While Yuffie continues to drop innuendos, Aerith leads them to a boutique three streets over. It's in the high-end area of the shopping district, the part Tifa usually avoids because even with her profitable business she cannot afford to shop there.

Inside, the boutique is warm and smells of expensive perfume. The interior is somewhat small, but cozy and tastefully decorated in ivory and gold. There is rack upon rack of elegant dresses, and dozens of shelves containing shoes and jewelry. Aerith, who Tifa now believes comes here often, is chatting up an associate, who comes right over and introduces herself.

"Hello," she says, smiling with bright blue eyes. "My name is Mara. What can I help you with?"

Tifa relaxes. Though the store is high-end fashion, the employees are friendly. "I need a dress for a Christmas party we're having."

Mara nods, her pale brown ponytail bouncing. "We've had a lot of those come in lately. Hm. You've got a fantastic shape. And your coloring is lovely. I suggest a shorter dress, in red or black. What do you think?"

"That sounds good. Let's try red, though. I wear too much black."

Mara laughs, gesturing at her uniform of a black frock dress and oxfords. "I'm not fond of the color myself, but I have to wear it for work. Come on."

She leads them to a small dressing area, with a circular platform in the center, semi-framed by mirrors. There are four dressing stalls off to the right. While Aerith and Yuffie put the bags down and take a seat, Mara motions for Tifa to go into a stall. "You get undressed and I'll bring you a few items to try on."

"Alright." Tifa drops her purse next to Yuffie's chair and closes the stall door behind her. By the time she has stripped to her underclothes, Mara has returned with four red dresses. All are short, but tastefully so.

"Here, try these."

Without looking at it, Tifa slips the first dress over her head and steps out. She stands on the platform, admiring the bright hue and the way the multitude of sequins catches the light. The dark of her hair and the pallor of her skin are complimented; the smooth neckline accentuates her collarbone. She likes it, but doesn't think it's the right one. She turns to her friends.

"What do you think?"

Aerith tilts her head. "You look great."

"Duh," Yuffie quips. "She looks great in anything. That dress is nice, but it's not The One. Next."

Smiling at Yuffie's candor, Tifa returns to her stall. She shimmies out of the dress and returns it to its hook. The next dress is a tad shorter, dark and made of a rich and expensive velvet. It is similar to Aerith's in cut and shape, though the neckline is lower, more revealing. The velvet is soft and cool against her skin. Perhaps this dress will elicit a better response.

"That one's better." Yuffie nods her approval. "Makes your legs look great."

"I agree. And the velvet keeps the sexiness in so it's subtle." Aerith smiles. "What do you think?"

Tifa considers. "I do like it, but it looks pretty much the same as yours. Not that your dress isn't lovely, but I'd like something a little more distinguished."

"An excellent point," Yuffie concurs, shooing Tifa back into her stall. "Next."

The last two dresses are also rejected, as well as the next five Mara brings out. They have been in the store for two hours and Tifa is growing despondent. How is she to make Christmas Eve work if they cannot even find her dress? Just as fed up as Tifa, Yuffie snaps and loses her patience.

"That's it." She stands up and points a slim finger at Mara, who is fairly startled. "You stay right here. _I _will find her a dress and it will be _freaking_ _magnificent._"

"Okay," Mara murmurs, watching Yuffie with wide eyes as the smaller woman stalks off into the maze of dresses.

Aerith sighs heavily. "I'm sorry. She's always been... assertive."

"To put it kindly," Tifa remarks drily from her stall. Standing in only her bra and panties, pretty though they are, she is getting a chill.

"It's all right," Mara smiles. "I'm sorry none of these dresses are working out for you."

"Oh, don't be sorry," Tifa says reassuringly. "It's not your fault. I'm just finicky."

It isn't long before Yuffie comes storming back over. Without warning, and much to Tifa's utter horror, she throws open the stall door and tosses the dress at Tifa's face. "That's the one," she declares, shutting the door. "Put it on and come out here."

"Of course, your highness," Tifa mutters, yanking the dress over her head. When she comes out, she immediately sees the looks on her friends' faces, including Mara's. This dress is something special. When she steps onto the platform and faces her reflection, she sees that she is right.

There are two layers to the dress: a solid, strapless layer, and over it a long-sleeved sheath of lace. It is thigh-length, and completely backless. Tifa finds something distinctly attractive about this detail and wonders what Genesis would think, to see her bare back. The fabric is a lovely shade of red, like ripe cherries or a glass of red wine. It is flattering.

She smooths her hands down the front of it, slightly mesmerized. When was the last time she looked so good? She can't remember. Mara, beaming, steps up beside her, hair clip in hand. "May I?"

Tifa nods her consent and Mara gently sweeps the black tresses off Tifa's neck, winding them up into a coil and clipping them to the crown of her head. With her hair up, the higher neckline of the dress draws attention to her throat, which looks quite graceful, and the elegance of the open back is highlighted. There is no contest – this dress is The One. She adores it.

"This one. I'll take it."

Aerith claps her hands and Yuffie drops several snarky comments as Tifa changes back into her jeans and cable-knit sweater. Mara collects the rejected dresses from the stall and hangs them on a rack behind the check-out counter. While another employee – this one named Aline – rings up the purchase, Tifa's thoughts inevitably wander to Genesis.

_Pretty dress or not, _she thinks, half-imagining he might somehow hear her. _I hope you feel the same._

* * *

Banora is as beautiful as it ever was, and Genesis looks nostalgically upon his childhood home as he rides through it. He caught the evening train the night before and arrived at the station in Banora early the following morning. From the station, he paid a few coins to a villager for a ride to the orchard. The man, who owned a small orchard of his own, specializing in peaches, was agreeable to the terms and soon Genesis was well on his way to seeing his parents.

He is mildly fretting over this when the man speaks. "So, what brings ya ta Banora? 'S not really the time a' year for vis'ters."

"I'm visiting my parents. They own the apple orchard on the outskirts of the village." Genesis feels more than sees the man squinting at him.

"Yer Ro and Stark's kid? That scrawny little feller used ta ride that big ol' horse?"

Genesis does not know whether to groan or laugh. "Yes. That would be me."

"Hell. You sure growed up big, ain't ya? Not so scrawny anymore."

"Not anymore, no. I'm flattered that you remember me, but I'm afraid I can't say the same of you."

The man smiles good-naturedly. "Didn't think so. You was always runnin' around with them other boys, chasin' monsters. I only came 'round yer folks' place once in a blue moon."

"I suppose I was a little absorbed in my youthful escapades."

"Shit, I'll say. Ain't seen ya in a long while. Been up ta anything?"

Genesis considered dodging the inquiry with a vague answer, but decided to confide in the old man. Maybe some practice will help calm him down. "That's actually why I'm here. I was a hard boy to handle growing up, and because of that I've drifted from my parents. I regret that immensely, and now I need their help. You see, I've fallen in love and I plan to confess my feelings during my friends' annual Christmas party. I want to have a special gift for her when I tell her, and what I had in mind is still in my mother's possession."

The smiles a very knowing smile. "That's right romantic of ya, sonny. Also man of ya ta come all the way back 'ere to make peace with yer folks. I doubt they'd turn ya away."

Genesis is grateful for the man's easy faith in him. "I hope you're right. There are other gifts I could give her, but none like this. And I want my parents to be a part of this new chapter of my life. It would mean very much to me."

"You ain't got nothin' ta worry 'bout," the man reassures him. They may have spoken more on the subject, but just at that moment they were pulling up the long driveway that lead to his parents' house. A thick bundle of nerves rose within Genesis, knotting up in his belly. He swallowed hard.

_I am Genesis Rhapsodos, _he thinks. _There is no obstacle I cannot overcome._

Then they stop, and he is there, and the moment is upon him. He looks to the man.

"What is your name, sir?"

"Samuel Chase. But just Sam's fine."

"Thank you, Sam. I appreciate your kindness, and your words have given me, I believe, the courage I need to do this." He climbs out of the truck, closes the door behind him. He leans down to speak through the open window. "I hope this isn't the last we see of each other."

"'M sure it won't be, sonny. Good luck, and tell yer folks I said hello."

Genesis promises to relay the regards and then Sam Chase is gone, a long cloud of fine dust trailing in his wake. With a deep breath, Genesis turns to face the the house, the two-story building of red brick, as solid and constant now as it was when he was growing up in it. He follows the path of flagstones to wide veranda, where there is outdoor furniture arranged to the right of the double doors. The firmly and quickly presses the doorbell, giving himself no time to back out.

It is mere seconds before the right door opens, revealing an aged, but infinitely elegant, woman. Her bright white hair is pulled into a tight knot that rests on the nape of her neck, her fine features and keen eyes akin to Genesis's own. She looks startled to see him. Startled – and wary.

"Genesis?"

He swallows for the hundredth time, tamping down on the nerves. _For Tifa, _he reminds himself. _I am doing this for Tifa. _It is now or never.

"Hello, Mother."

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

_I would apologize for the cliffhanger, but I'm not sorry. Honestly, I need time to map out the scene with Genesis and his mother. It may not even be in the next chapter. I've been away from this story for so long that I need to revisit the notes I made for it and see where I was taking the plot. I know there are three other relationships involved in this fic, Yuffie and Vincent included in these, so I may visit them and introduce one of the other two. Please bear with me. I couldn't do any of this without you lovely fellows!_


End file.
